


How to take in strays

by Dancyon



Series: Magic!AU [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Dark, Gen, Hunter!Andrew, M/M, Minor Character Death, Witch Hunters, Witch!Neil, taking strays home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:59:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancyon/pseuds/Dancyon
Summary: Nathaniel promised to keep running. Hunters are on his heels, and they plague his nightmares, but he's still alive. He's as fine as he can be, considering the circumstances. And if they catch him, he will go down fighting.Andrew doesn't have it in him to take in strays he's supposed to kill. But he might make an exception for a hurt rabbit on the run.Second part of my Magic!AU, Andreil first meeting.





	How to take in strays

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me, and this story, on tumblr as well.  
> http://dancyon.tumblr.com/

“ _There’s magic in every breath you and I take, Abram_.” his mother had said right before they caught up with her and raised her battered body on a pyre. 

Blood lined her fingers and magic died inside her as she burned in the light of an early morning, the last of her screams of pain long since dissolved in the breeze of late spring. She burned until her bones turned to dust, and what was left of her travelled with the wind until she reached the ocean.

“ _Keep running. I will protect you_.”

And she had, her magic flowing through the air, showing him the way and guiding him towards the path to safety; a last gift before her presence became a wisp of a memory in the world. 

His mother had been caught as spring became summer; the evening heat of the South had just started to become stifling. He wandered under fake identities and he changed his appearance as he tried to decide on what to do next, his mother’s magic taking him East away from the sea and towards the desert. There, away from immediate danger, the last whisks of her power pushed him North, to safety. 

Nathaniel’s plan was to run and keep running until he crossed the border up North, where his mother’s contacts were waiting for him. He just had to live until then, and he could go back across the sea and reach his Uncle after the ice on the shore of the North Sea melted.   
If he survived the cold, biting winter of the North, that is.

Nathaniel kept running, and he survived. Alone.

His escape made a lot of people angry, and they were all too happy to let him know. 

His father’s cold, murderous rage followed him in every crook and corner he managed to find. It was present in every new scar, every close call, and every whisper the wind carried back to him when the red-haired hunter got close enough that his magic could feel the danger he was pulsing like a flame in the dark. 

The Moriyamas, instead, chose their own distant, omnipresent approach. They called every witch hunter back to their Castle and they put three times Nathaniel’s weight in gold and gems as a prize for whoever brought them the witch still alive and breathing. They wanted the privilege of watching his blistered and scarred body trash on the pyre in the early lights of the morning. They wanted his screams to fill the air and the smell of his burning flesh to remind everyone who was in charge.

He was going through the city of Palmetto when he met the infamous Andrew Minyard. The man wasn’t much in person, but stories about him traveled far and large across the Country, and his reputation made him stand as tall as the Giants of legends at five feet even. 

“ _He skinned a Witch alive with a pocket knife_.”

“ _He once took down ten Witches by himself, and hung their heads in front of the King’s Castle_.”

“ _He can suck your magic away_.”

“ _He sold his soul to become invincible and indestructible_.”

Nathaniel wasn’t one to believe in rumors, but he had to admit that the tales were making him more paranoid than usual. He was expecting the Monster to ambush him in every dark corner he ran into, and his patience was starting to wear thin from the anticipation.

Their paths crossed a few weeks after the festivities for Midwinter, lights still adorning some of the porches in front of the middle class houses of East Palmetto.

Nathaniel had one eye open to the danger around him at any given time, melting in the dark like a shadow, but the fresh wound on his side made him sloppy and careless, pain clouding his perceptiveness.

The cane came out of nowhere, knocking him down and stealing his breath away. He choked on air as he felt his gash bleeding, hidden by his heavy dark clothes. 

“What’s a little runt like you doing in the East Side?” a mocking voice he didn’t recognize asked as he tried his hardest not to pass out in front of someone who was about to kill him “Sticking out like a sore thumb.” 

He tried to assess the danger with his magic, but it was useless. He was too tired; half of his powers were still trying to keep all of his organs inside of his body. He was not going to die without a fight, he had promised himself and his mother. He would never give them the satisfaction. 

“Fuck you.” Nathaniel ground out through clenched teeth. “What do you want?”

“The rabbit has claws” the man said with delight. He was wearing a heavy dark cloak, a wooden cane swinging lazily in the air over Nathaniel’s raised head.

Getting up slowly, one hand braced against the dirty house behind him, he gave the man a once over. His magic hummed, agitated. There was something about this man. Something dark and twisted, but unbowed. 

He looked like someone with nothing to lose. The young witch would not make the mistake of underestimating him because of how small he was –was he actually shorter than Nathaniel himself?

“I asked you a question little bird.” He mocked with impatience. “What are you doing here, hiding in the shadows?” His eyes went pointedly to his left shoulder, where he knew his birthmark condemned him as one of them.   
_Oh_ , he thought numbly. _He knows_. He felt himself freeze as he suddenly realized who he was dealing with; the Monster, the man that had been plaguing his every waking moment.

Feigning nonchalance he leaned his wounded side against the wall, keeping his weakest spot as far away from the hunter as possible and trying to find the fastest escape route.

“Oh, you know,” he grinned humorlessly, “thought I’d take a walk. I have nightmares” _Of you_.

If the Gods were listening, for once, he prayed for the man to never find out who he was. He prayed for his magic to be strong enough to let him get away. He prayed for a quick death if he couldn’t make his escape. 

The man snorted, moving a step forward, and his cane stilled in the air. “Nightmares, he says.” 

He didn’t have the time to add anything else. Nathaniel was faster. Using whatever strength he had left, he clouded his mind with darkness to slow him down and he kicked him with his good leg, quickly reaching for the cane to smash it against the blonde’s face and make a run for it. He was injured, he couldn’t move as fast as usual, but he still knew how to move in the dark, he could still disappear in the shadows and–

He wasn’t fast enough. The Monster stopped him before he could get close enough to the cane to grab it, and he kicked his legs from under him, planting a foot on Nathaniel’s heaving chest when he fell to the ground.

He looked down at the younger one with disdain, the weight on top of him pressing just a little bit more into his ribcage. 

Nathaniel cried out, against his better judgment, the gash on his side pulsing and warm blood flowing out and soaking the ground around him. 

The man paused, perplexed, and he crouched down next to him after taking his foot away, holding him down with his arm against Nathaniel’s upper chest, just below his neck. He didn’t move as he examined the blood, and the other one’s labored breathing, and the faint trembling in his pained muscles. 

“The fuck happened to you?” he asked conversationally with a raised eyebrow.

Nathaniel turned his head away, his jaw stubbornly clenched. “Just get it over with.” He didn’t beg. He wouldn’t. 

But the other man didn’t move, he just kept looking at him curiously. “What’s your name, little rabbit?”

When Nathaniel didn’t answer, he rolled his eyes. Moving his arm away, he got up, helping the witch up as well with a supportive hand around his waist, careful not to touch any exposed or wounded skin. 

“You must have a hell of a story,” he mused quietly to himself as the younger one stumbled against his side, careful not to put their bodies in contact more than strictly necessary.

Nathaniel tried to stay as still as possible, fear running through his veins like ice, and confusion clouding his thoughts. “What do you want from me?” 

His answer was a humorless and joyless smile, cutting and cold. “You’re interesting, against my better judgment.”

Legs itching to run, Nathaniel tried to subtly look for any possible exits. He would not give up until he was dead. “What are you going to do to me?”

When the man didn’t answer, the younger one turned to look at him properly for the first time. Minyard was studying him carefully, his interest piqued, eyes dark and calculating as they shifted between Nathaniel’s face, his covered shoulder, and his injured side. 

“Where are you staying?” The blonde asked brusquely, but Nathaniel refused to answer. He had already given away too much of himself. 

“Nowhere, I gather.” Minyard surmised, walking towards the opposite end of the alley and pulling the other one along, still half supporting his weight and helping him walk. 

The witch resisted, confused. “What are you doing?” He gritted his teeth, trying to detach himself from the man. He stumbled when the arm holding him up suddenly left him, and he was met with a blank look and raised eyebrows.

“Thought you might like a safe place to sleep for tonight. My bad.” 

The words made him snap. He was still scared, but his situation wasn’t about to get any shinier if he kept his rotten attitude in check. He was going to die either way. “What, the alley too dirty to kill me here?” He snarled furiously, a hand holding his side as a wave of pain hit him, his fingers drenched in blood and dirt.

Minyard looked him over dispassionately. “If I’d wanted to kill you, you would be dead already. You’re so pathetically weak that even your magic isn’t working properly. No, don’t lie to me,” he snapped when Nathaniel was about to interrupt him, “you can feel it, can’t you? Magic has a price. You’re too weak to pay it right now.” 

The younger one looked away defeated, all fight leaving him. “What do you want from me?” He enquired tiredly, shivering in the night as he kept losing blood on the dirty asphalt. 

Minyard didn’t answer, slowly raising one of his arms towards Nathaniel. “I will help you walk towards the place I am staying at. I give you my word that I will not try to kill you today. Yes or no?”

Nathaniel wanted to say no. And he wanted to say yes. And he wanted to say everything in between, because this was crazy, and he had promised to keep running. But he was tired, and hurt, and bleeding. His magic was there, coiled tightly inside his chest, but it was slipping from his fingers like warm butter. He was tired of running and of being alone.

With a sigh, he nodded, and he let the hunter support his weight on his injured side as he was expertly led through the darkness, his magic singing quietly inside of him.

Minyard, as it turned out, lived in the outskirts of the city, in a cheap slum that had seen better days. When Nathaniel had cheekily tried to make a comment, he had been shut up with a cold look and a bored “I travel a lot; I haven’t been in this city long.” 

The inside of the rundown house was mostly bare, but neat and organized. The witch was unceremoniously dumped on one of the two chairs in the empty kitchen as Andrew left to find a friend that could patch up Nathaniel’s shredded side and keep quiet about it at the same side. 

He wasn’t gone for long, and he came back with a girl with rainbow colored hair and quick to smile. She looked soft in all the wrong ways, and vicious in all the right ones.

Nathaniel let himself drift away, his magic expanding in the air around him and keeping him grounded in reality as his mind sailed on another plane, high above the city grounds, looking for threats.

For the first time, he let himself hope as a woman called Renee healed his wounds and a man called Andrew kept him safe.


End file.
